As Mayor Mayer stepped up to the podium, she was greeted with an uproar of stomping applause, the audience excited that things were finally getting under way. She moved up to the microphone, taking a moment to adjust it and clear her hoarse throat before beginning. "Thank you, thank you. Before we begin, I'd like to take a moment to thank you all for coming out today. It's really great how many ponies we've got with us to celebrate." At that, the crowd renewed their stomping with excitement. After a few moments, they calmed down, and the mayor was able to continue.
"Now, we've got a very special pony here to give a speech today. Please put your hooves together for your very own Applejack." Hearing the familiar name, the crowd went wild, cheering and clopping their hooves together in a seal-like manner.
Applejack, a little nervous about being in front of a crowd so large, stepped up to the mic. "H-hello everypony," she started, being greeted by some cheers from her friends in the front. She smiled, now filled with confidence. "As mosta ya'll know, Ah've been bleesed with stage 3 autism," this was punctuated by another round of applause.
"It hasn't been easy living with autism, what with the extra Y chromosome an havin' no control over mah bladder, but ya'll've been supportive a me, and Ah'm proud to live in such a nice community." As is their default reaction, the town went into an uproar.
"It wasn't always like this. Mah parents considered throwin' me in the river when Ah was younger 'cuz they didn't understand how special and beautiful Ah am. They was accidentally murdered in their beds by who knows who, serves 'em right. If only they was alive ta see what a wonderful pony Ah've grown into," she belched as she finished, noticing the dead rat she'd eaten for breakfast wasn't sittin' right.
"Ah'd also like to thank our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for blessing me an' mah family an' bein' the one and only God. Only under his wisdom can we possibly know peace an' happiness. In our Lord's holy in we pray, amen."
"Amen," mirrored the crowd who had bowed their heads in prayer.
"Now then," Mayor Mayer said, stepping up to home plate, "let's have a Q & A."
The crowd shuffled around, forming a huge line as everypony was eager to get to ask a real, life autistic pony a question. The first pony in line was pretty young, and seemed a little shy as he lowered the mic. As he spoke, his mouth was a bit too close to the microphone, making it hard to hear, but Applejack managed. "How do you use the bathroom?" He questioned, looking to his role model up on stage. He'd always wished he was blessed with autism.
"Well, ta' be honest," she started, feeling a rare emotion that normally didn't manifest in people with autism: shame. "Herg, when Ah'm alone or at tha farm Ah usually just weara adult diaper 'cuz Ah don't have control of mah bladder."
The young colt was amazed, and as he scampered to the back of the line, he considered wearing a diaper next time he was alone just so he could truly appreciate Applejack.
Up next was a middle aged pony who, by the early-forming wrinkles, looked to be a mom. "Taking care of my kids can be a nightmare," she preambled, getting cheers of agreement from some of her fellow moms in the audience, "but if they were just autistic it would be so much easier. Then I could leave them at home with coloring books all day instead of taking them to soccer practice and school." She bumped her slightly-swelled tummy, indicating that she was in the first stages of pregnancy. "With another one on the way, I was wondering how many vaccines you would recommend to guarantee that the baby develops autism."
"That's ah good question miss," complimented Applejack as she pushed up her glasses with a hoof, "vaccines all have a high rate of causing autism because of mercury put in by tha government, but ta guarantee it Ah'd say anywhere between ten and fifteen. I ate a dozen when I was a kid and jus' look how I turned up," she finished with a flourish, showing off her dazzling body to all the appreciative bachelors in the crowd.
The mother smiled and walked off towards the nearest clinic, looking to pick up the morning's fresh batch of vaccines. Up next hobbled an elderly stallion, thick glasses set on his wrinkly snout. He licked his lips a few times before speaking in a wheezy voice. "Well, hello young man. I wanted to know if it's too late for someone as old as me to develop the autism that all the kids are into these days."
Applejack smiled, about to answer, when he tummy started to rumble. She sat down and grasped it in a vain hope of stopping the pain as her insides roiled in disagreement. Her face turned a bright shade of green, and before anyone could do anything, she hunched over, spewing breakfast all over the stage for all to see. As she heaved, recovering from her shock, she was disappointed to see that she'd lost the rat she'd eaten.
She'd found the thing dead in a hay bail on the top rafters of the barn, and decided to give him a name and a proper home in her tummy. It was Steve, and now the partially-digested rat was on the ground, obviously uncomfortable. She cooed at him, "it'll be okay. Sorry for dropping you." And then she leaned forward and gulped him down once again.
The crowd 'aw'ed' happy to experience such a touching moment. Unfortunately, Twilight and her friends had to step up onto the stage and ruin it. "We need to clean this up," said Twilight, not amused by Applejack's constant making of messes. Though she couldn't blame her, Applejack was autistic, after all.